Alone in the Dark
by HappyBunny and Epps
Summary: [Ghost Ship] The future, the past. In the future Maureen Epps is dealing with her life after the incident on the Antonia Graza. In the past, back on the Graza, Jack needs Death's help to get rid of Maureen after he kills Dodge. Does he succeed? I thin
1. Prologue: Alone in the Dark

Authors' Note: This is the prologue. It could also be considered a story by itself (which it was originally) but then Maureen Epps a.k.a. Rain Ocampo and I (HappyBunny1) decided to make it into two stories. All the chapters written about the future (Maureen and her life after the Graza and how things are going for her) are written by Maureen Epps a.k.a. Rain Ocampo. All the chapters written about the past (Jack and Death) are written by me (except for the prologue which is by me as well).  
  
Summary: [Ghost Ship] The future, the past. In the future, Maureen Epps is dealing with her life after the incident on the Antonia Graza. In the past, back on the Graza, Jack needs Death's help to get rid of Maureen after he kills Dodge. But does Jack succeed? I think not...  
  
Disclaimer: We do not claim Ghost Ship or any related matter. :-)  
  
*~*~*  
  
Alone in the Dark  
  
It was dark. And I don't mean nighttime dark. I mean in-your-face-and-you- can't-even-see-your-own-feet dark. The kind of dark where you know something will lunge out at you. The kind of dark where looking over your shoulder will do you no good because you can barely even see your own shoulder.  
  
Do you understand the picture I'm painting for you?  
  
Because this is what Maureen Epps was seeing. She was walking blindly through complete darkness, but it all seemed familiar to her. She had been here before. She knew it.  
  
She could hear her feet slushing through water and she could smell the rancid stench of death everywhere. She saw nothing, but she knew everything. She was on the Antonia Graza. The ship that was practically possessed by the vengeful spirits of poor innocents and wretched sinners alike.  
  
As this realization hit her, she tripped on something. She didn't fall. She just flew forward a little. She bent down and let her hands search the three inch deep water for whatever it was that almost made her land right on her face. Her right hand finally came upon something. She picked it up and suddenly, without a second thought, she knew what it was: a flashlight.  
  
Her fingers searched desperately for the switch to turn it on. She had to find it, and it better work, or else she would go mad from fear. Yes, that's right, Maureen Epps was actually scared. She was truly afraid. Not because of the darkness that seemed to claw at her from all sides, but she felt, she knew, she wasn't alone. She could feel someone watching every move she was making, even though she couldn't even see her own movements herself.  
  
She quickly flipped the switch and, amazingly, the flashlight turned on. This surprised her a bit but she decided to just take advantage of this stroke of luck.  
  
She shined the flashlight around and she saw her guess was correct. She was walking down one of the corridors of the lower decks of the Antonia Graza. And that wasn't a good feeling at all. It was rusty and decaying, just like it had been when she and her crew members came aboard.  
  
She shined the light farther down the corridor and saw that her worst fear was confirmed. She wasn't alone. Her fear slowly faded away when she saw who it was, though.  
  
"Katie?" Maureen yelled to the small figure that stood at the end of the hallway. "Katie!"  
  
Katie smiled and giggled and then ran off to the right, down another corridor that intersected the one that Maureen was on.  
  
But Maureen immediately knew something was wrong. Katie wouldn't just do something like that when Maureen had called her. Katie would warn her, or tell her what's going on, or at least say SOMETHING. She wouldn't just run away.  
  
But Maureen, always being the curious one, followed. She ran down to the end of the corridor and glanced to the left. She then went to the right and continued to run faster at seeing that Katie was now running up a flight of strairs.  
  
As she continued to run, everything seemed to get lighter. It wasn't much, just enough for it to be noticeable. Maureen turned the flashlight off and shoved it in her overly-large pocket.  
  
She watched as Katie dashed through a door at the top of the stairs. It slammed shut with a thud but then it slowly opened an inch or two.  
  
At the bottom of the stairs, Maureen paused. There was something ominous about this all. She knew that there might be something really bad on the other side of that door, or, for all she knew, there could be a pretty little garden of roses. She tended to doubt the latter, though.  
  
She slowly walked up the metal staircase, her eyes never leaving the door. Her hand was slightly shaking as she grasped the railing and her boots clinked as they hit each stair.  
  
The clinking of her boots and even her breathing echoed all around her, and she could even hear the faint, rapid beating of her heart. It was a very eerie feeling. It seemed like something out of a Hollywood horror movie.  
  
As she got to the top of the stairs she stood in front of the door for a moment. She wouldn't dare look through the small opening of the door. Her terror was at a peak at this point, but she knew she had to suck it up and open the door.  
  
And as soon as she did she regretted it completely.  
  
The door creaked as it opened and Maureen looked on in horror at the massacre that lay beyond. She completely forgot about Katie for the moment as she looked at the dead bodies of men and women that were scattered all over the ballroom floor, tables and chairs. It was obvious that some had been shot while others were just lying on the ground, pools of crimson had formed around their bodies. Many were draped over bowls of soup, their bodies stiff and unmoving. Everything was frighteningly silent.  
  
But as Maureen's immediate panic wore off and she got used to horrid smell of the atmosphere around her, she realized that she shouldn't be in the ballroom. She never remembered walking up a set of stairs to get directly to the ballroom, and besides, it was supposed to have double doors. Maureen turned around just to prove to herself her own theory, but all she saw was shiny new double doors (that were closed). That's something else she noticed. She was now on the ship the way it was back in 1962. It was no longer rusty and dull, but it was now sparkling new.  
  
Maureen spun back around, completely confused, horrified and bewildered by these strange goings-on. Fear set in her bones and a chill ran down her spine. She got that feeling again, like she was being watched. She felt completely defenseless as she looked all over the ballroom. Oh my God did she hate that feeling. When she felt defenseless she felt weak, and weakness was something she did not want attributed to her character, especially since she once worked with men.  
  
Along with her fear then came a sense of danger. She felt that something not really good was about to happen and she knew she had to leave immediately. She was a woman. She had this kind of intuition.  
  
She turned around and grabbed the handles to the double doors. She tried pulling. She tried pushing. Nothing happened. They wouldn't budge. She turned back around to face all the dead bodies, the dead bodies that lay calmly and quietly in their final resting place.  
  
Maureen had no idea what to do now. The only way out was through those doors but they were jammed. Since the doors were glass she figured that she could just break them and make a mad dash out of there.  
  
Without warning, a man stepped out from behind a large pillar at the end of the room. A deep masculine voice then said, "I suggest you not do that, Maureen." Perhaps she was thinking out loud, or maybe she was thinking TOO loudly, or it just might've been he could simply read minds, but he knew what she had planned on doing.  
  
Maureen stared. She just stared. The man wore a nice black suit and, unlike the corpses around him, not one drop of blood stained his pricey, new clothing. His brown hair was nicely slicked back, not a single strand was out of place. Maureen could not believe what she was seeing. This was the Soul Collector, the Graza's Angel of Death: Jack Ferriman.  
  
Maureen Epps was a person who generally didn't let her fear show, but now she was so scared that Jack could practically smell her terror. It's one of the most basic instincts for humans and Mr. I-Collect-Souls-for-a-Living was always good at bringing that feeling out in people.  
  
The tense silence between them was unnerving. Jack had his hands in his pockets and he seemed perfectly comfortable with the gore-fest around him. His icy, stone-cold blue eyes captivated Maureen and prevented her from looking away. Behind his eyes, though, there was a darker side. He was a wolf in sheep's clothing and Maureen knew it.  
  
But then Maureen remembered Katie. "Where is Katie?" Her voice slightly echoed and Jack acted like he never even heard her say anything. "Where is she, Jack!?!"  
  
"You really don't think that was Katie, do you?" He raised an eyebrow as he spoke. Maureen thought, by the tone of it, he was questioning her intelligence. Her silence gave him all he needed to know.  
  
Maureen should have known. Well, actually, she did but she didn't want to believe that she was tricked by the one person who blinded her completely by his "charm".  
  
Maureen stopped her pondering when she saw Jack walking over the dance floor of the ballroom towards her. His hands were still in his pockets and his eyes never left hers. He calmly walked over each body he came to, missing the puddles of blood by mere centimeters.  
  
He walked up the several stairs to get to Maureen and when he got to the top he stopped. They were no more than six feet apart by now and Maureen couldn't back up anymore because she was already up against the doors behind her. She wanted to defend herself, she wanted to get the hell out of there, but that couldn't be done.  
  
He slowly moved forwards, watching the fear in her eyes grow stronger and stronger. He knew that she wanted to cry, that she wanted to scream but her pride and dignity got in the way.  
  
They were about two feet apart when Jack suddenly stopped. Maureen watched in dread as he pulled his right hand out of his pocket and slowly held it up for Maureen to see. There, in the center of his palm, was a scar, the mark of the trident. The mark that the Devil himself had given Jack so he could steal the souls from the world. Maureen assumed he had it but she never saw it on him for herself.  
  
Maureen was too busy examining Jack's palm to see the wicked smile that played upon his lips. He always said that humans were oblivious to the small details that matter so much. And by Maureen not seeing Jack's look of amusement, she didn't expect what was to come.  
  
The scar on his palm began to glow a light, cloudy, orange-yellow. Before Maureen could realize what was happening, his right hand flew out to grab her own. Maureen looked into his eyes but all she saw was the darkness that hugged his entire soul. She tried to pull away but her resistence was doing nothing except making his grip even tighter.  
  
Maureen yelped in pain when she felt her palm burning. The pain was more excruciating than anything she had ever felt in her life. Perhaps this was because he was stealing who she really was, he was taking her soul without the intent of ever giving it back.  
  
But she was still alive and kicking, she wasn't even dying. How could he even do this?  
  
Maybe because it was all a dream.  
  
An ear-piercing scream filled the summer night air as Maureen's eyes shot open. She quickly sat up in bed, her breathing heavy and labored. Her eyes darted all over the dark room, searching for the antagonist that haunted her dreamworld, but she never found him because he wasn't there. He was never there when she searched for him. She had this nightmare many times and each time she woke up at the same point: when her soul was stolen from her. And each time she had no control over any of it. It was like she was watching a movie, seeing herself in this hellish nightmare but not actually being there.  
  
Now that Maureen was up, every little creak in the floorboards, every little bump in the night, every little shadow plastered against the wall made her look over her shoulder in suspicion or hug the sheet even closer to her already sweating body. She was terrified of everything around her, unsure if suddenly Jack Ferriman would appear in the shadows and drag her off to the deepest pit of Hell.  
  
Maureen suddenly thought about the people in the world around her. They didn't know about people like Jack Ferriman. She felt this immense pity for them because she knew some other innocent person might be next, but they had no idea of the torture that awaited them if their soul was taken by Jack.  
  
Her thoughts then retrogressed back to her own problems. She felt she wasn't safe, not even in her dreams. But that had to be the most frightening thing in the world: she couldn't even stop her dreams from being invaded by the dark force that we call Jack Ferriman.  
  
And as she huddled closely to the backboard of her bed, she realized how alone she was. Alone with her thoughts, alone with her nightmares, alone with her fears, alone, completely alone, in the dark.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Authors' Note: Do you like? Do you not like? Do you have to criticize? Than please review! 


	2. Chapter 1: Because It's My Job

Author's Note: This chapter's by HappyBunny1. Please review!  
  
*~*~*  
  
Chapter 1: Because It's My Job  
  
Dodge stood over what he thought was Jack's dead body. He just blew a hole the size of a damn fist through Jack's abdomen so Dodge's logic and reasoning told him that he wasn't going to be getting up anytime soon. Dodge's eyes searched over Jack's body for any sign of movement, but none were found.  
  
Dodge didn't want to kill Jack. He didn't like him too much but that didn't mean he wanted him dead. But Dodge knew, in his heart, there was something seriously wrong with Jack. There was something ominously dangerous about him that Dodge didn't want any part of. It was a creepy feeling that was proven to be true when Jack's demeanor suddenly changed. Within a split second Jack's cheery façade melted away to show the true beast inside.  
  
Jack's smile faded and the vibe of weakness that he gave off quickly disappeared. His eyes clouded over, becoming almost black and even his posture was different. There was nothing left of the kind Jack Ferriman that Dodge had met. Instead, in his place, stood a heartless man of stone who cared nothing for the people around him.  
  
Dodge didn't know it at the time, but this man, Jack Ferriman, was the cause of the disappearance of the Antonia Graza in the first place.  
  
When Jack spoke, his voice was chillingly dark and deep and even the light around Jack seemed to skitter away when he spoke. He insulted Dodge, belittled him, degraded him. He spat words at him that, deep inside, Dodge knew were true.  
  
But when Jack lunged at him Dodge panicked and pulled the trigger of the shot gun. Jack flew back several feet and landed on the rusty, metal floor of the Graza's helm.  
  
And now Dodge was just standing over him, watching ever so carefully and making sure he was indefinitely dead.  
  
But Jack was an immortal being and he was just waiting for the right moment to pounce.  
  
Dodge turned around and began to walk away. He had to get out of there and tell Maureen Epps, the only other crew member of the Arctic Warrior that was left alive, that Jack Ferriman was dead. If only Dodge knew that at that very moment, only several feet behind him, Jack had opened his eyes and he was severely pissed.  
  
"Dodge." That deep tone once again resounded in Dodge's ears as he was about to walk out of the door. Dodge knew he must be imagining things. It couldn't be real. Dodge quickly spun around, expecting to see Jack's STILL dead body on the ground and then expecting a wave of relief that the voice was only in his mind.  
  
But what he came face to face with was far more terrifying than the darkened helm of the ship. There in front of him stood Jack. Dodge watched in horror as the bullet hole in Jack's side vanished before his very eyes. The hole began to close up and the enormous amount of blood that once soaked his shirt was disappearing as well.  
  
A smirk tugged at Jack's lips as he watched Dodge. Not a word was said by Jack until his wound was gone completely.  
  
"Surprised?" Jack said nastily. Just by his tone Dodge could tell he was being mocked.  
  
"Wh-What the fuck are you?" Dodge's tone was fearful, but held a hint of curiousity. And Jack played off that.  
  
"Why don't you come closer and find out?" Jack didn't want Dodge to know who he really was. He didn't want to tell him he's a soul collector sent from the depths of Hell to claim thousands of the innocent and wicked and ferry them down to Hades. And besides, people feared Jack more when they knew less about him.  
  
Dodge's eyes widened and he took a step backward, but poor Dodge forgot that there was a step there, it was just a small step the led into the helm. But that small step cost him his soul.  
  
Dodge fell backward and his body hit the floor hard. He wanted to yell out in pain but it was impossible because Jack now had his hands wrapped tightly around Dodge's throat and was lifting him up.  
  
See, Jack took advantage of Dodge being distracted. The second Dodge hit the ground Jack was on him, completely prepared to end the man's life right there.  
  
Jack lifted Dodge off the ground and slammed his back next to the door. Dodge's feet were no more than a foot and half above the ground and they twitched slightly as Jack was choking the life out of him.  
  
It was almost funny to see such a small man like Jack lift a buff man like Dodge off the ground and hold him against a wall.  
  
Dodge struggled futiley against Jack's hands. Dodge couldn't breathe and he could feel himself getting dizzy from lack of air. His vision was getting blurry and darker.  
  
Before his final breath, Dodge managed to squeak out one final word, "Why?"  
  
Dodge's eyes slowly closed and the last thing he saw was Jack's grinning, evil face. And the last thing he heard was Jack's echoing voice saying, "Because it's my job."  
  
Dodge's life faded out of existence and he didn't even have time to comprehend Jack's last words. His body went limp and Jack quickly let go of him, letting his body slump to the ground and then landing in a heap leaning against the wall.  
  
"And it will always be my job." Jack said as he bent down to mark Dodge. He grabbed Dodge's right hand and as he scarred his palm, you could hear the screams and tortured cries of thousands of souls that died before him.  
  
Jack stood up and everything was eerily silent. He let out a deep sigh and then bent his head to the sides, the back, and the front, as if he were stretching after some strenuous activity.  
  
Jack stopped for a moment and thought about his current condition. Everyone was dead except Maureen, but he knew she would be pretty damn hard to kill. She knew who he really was and all about his plans, not to mention she was getting help from that Katie girl.  
  
Jack didn't like difficult things. They annoyed him. And he knew bumping off Maureen would be difficult becasue she was a fighter. She would fight until her last breath.  
  
So Jack needed help. And he decided to call on the one being that could take care of Maureen for him... Death.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Author's Note: Please review! Next chapter is Epps. 


	3. Chapter 2: Earshot

Author's Note: This chapter's by Maureen Epps a.k.a. Rain Ocampo. Please review!  
  
-----------  
  
Chapter 2: Earshot  
  
"So tell me Miss Epps...what is your life like?..." the school conseler despised of this girl. The hate was written all over her face. Mrs Dubonnet was a tan woman, with long shoulder length blonde hair in curls. She had a small barrette holding back the right side of her hair. Her emerald eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and her nails were a bright pink. She wore tight polyester suits in purple, sky blue, and white.  
  
"My life?" Desarae smirked, the kind of smirk you know someone who was prepared to tell the truth would do. She tipped her cigarette, leaning back in her chair, placing her combat boots ontop of Mrs Dubonnet's desk.   
  
"Put it out." the woman instructed, pointing to the cigarette.  
  
"Yeah, sure..." Dizzy smiled, sucking back the deep smoke that filled her lungs, and took the cigarette, and crushed it onto the woman's desk.  
  
"Not that way..." Mrs. Dubonnet looked annoyed now.  
  
"Oops, my bad." Dizzy smiled.  
  
"Anyway...let's take a look at your report card if you can't tell me about your life..." she instructed, pulling out Desarae's Perminate Record.  
  
"Oh, I never said I couldn't tell you about my life..." Dizzy replied.  
  
"Feet off the desk." Mrs. Dubonnet growled.  
  
"Yes sir!" Dizzy laughed.  
  
"Excuse me?!" Mrs. Dubonnet's face was bright red.  
  
"Excuse me!" Dizzy laughed.  
  
"Ma'am." she corrected herself.  
  
"That's better." Mrs. Dubonnet smirked.  
  
"So...if you'd like to tell me about yourself, please do." she leaned back in her chair, interlacing her fingers together, and smiled widely at the girl. A false smile.  
  
With her New York accent, Dizzy leaned forward, taking her feet off of the desk.  
  
"You really want to know?" she asked, speaking directly to her.  
  
"Yes Desarae...I do..." Mrs. Dubonnet leaned further back in her seat, away from the girl.  
  
"All right then..." Dizzy smiled sweetly.  
  
"What's there to know? I was brought up here, in good old Manhattan...I'm adopted...I smoke." she said indicating her pack of cigarettes.  
  
"I'm going to have to discard those, Desarae." Mrs Dubonnet held out her hand.  
  
"Of course, of course." Dizzy said with a rebel smirk.  
  
Annoyed. Mrs. Dubonnet got up from her seat.  
  
"Desarae, I don't think you get this. But I'm here to help you. Now whether you like it or not, your aunt has instructed me to TRY and help you..." she walked over gracefully towards Dizzy, holding out her hand. In which she got the box of cigs from Diz.  
  
"Thank you." Mrs. Dubonnet smiled.  
  
"You're quite welcome, toots." Dizzy smiled back.  
  
"It's Mrs. Dubonnet." she instructed, walking back over to her desk, and taking a seat.  
  
"Whatever." Dizzy said, snapping her gum inside her mouth.  
  
"You can go now, Desarae." she sighed, placing a mountain of papers to the right, so she had a better view of the girl.  
  
"Of course." Dizzy smiled, got up from her seat, and took out her gum with her index finger, sticking it under Mrs. Dubonnet's desk, and grabbed her backpack, heading out of the room, the door slammed shut.  
  
"Ungrateful bitch...daughter of a God damn ship salvager..." she muttered once the girl was gone, and took out a cigarette from Diz's once-had pack, placing it to her lips, she fiddled around in the already-open drawer, looking for a lighter.  
  
"Ah ha." she smiled to herself, and lit it up, taking it between her thumb and forefinger, gazing down at Dizzy's file.  
  
"Ah, she's going to be trouble..." she sighed, shaking her head.  
  
----  
  
"Well, you're certainly off to a good start." Maureen indicated the phone chord wrapped around her forefinger.  
  
"You're in big trouble..." she growled.  
  
"Oh of course not you Mrs. Dubonnet!" Maureen laughed, a fake laugh, one that you would hear at tea parties.  
  
"You're so lame, mother." Dizzy flipped her off, and heading down the hallway into her room.  
  
"Excuse me while I go discipline my daughter..." Maureen cringed, hanging up the phone.  
  
"But.." was Mrs. Dubonnet's last words before she was disconnected from the phone line of the Epps residence.  
  
Maureen headed down the hallway, nearly tripping over Dizzy's combat boots, one to the left, one in the middle of the hallway, clothes were thrown all over the floor, and the door to her room was closed, Slipknot music blasting away, a 'Do not disturb' sign hung on the white wooden door.  
  
Maureen sighed, rolling her eyes, and prepared herself, slowly reaching out for the knob and turned it.  
  
"Turn that damn shit off!" she growled, bending down to pick up one of Dizzy's dirty shirts on the floor.  
  
"I'm all ears." Dizzy said, switching off the radio.  
  
"Thank you." Maureen smiled, flipping the lid of the hamper open, and threw the shirt inside.  
  
"This room is a mess." she said, indicating all the clothes, shoes, and papers surrounding the white carpet.  
  
"It's the way I like it." Dizzy replied, nodding her head.  
  
"Well it's not the way I like it." Maureen shuddered at the thought of Dizzy having total control over the household.  
  
"I just was on the phone with the principal of Manchester Prep, and she is NOT amused Desarae..." Maureen began to walk over to her daughter, sitting down backwards on a chair, she laid her arms out ontop of the chair, sighing, as she rested her chin on her arms.  
  
"Yeah, so?" Dizzy asked, throwing up a Yo-yo into the air.  
  
"So?!" Maureen shot a look of disappointment to her.  
  
"I'm not amused either!" she growled.  
  
"Don't yell at me." Dizzy said calmly.  
  
"Look. Just clean your room, and we'll talk..." Maureen said, getting up from her seat, and placing the chair back to where it originally was.  
  
"Fine." Dizzy replied.  
  
"Thank you." Maureen smiled.  
  
"Tomorrow." Dizzy smirked.  
  
Maureen's smile immediately dropped. She didn't know why she honestly put up with it...it had seemed like such a good idea, to adopt a child...but little did she know how much stress it would give her.  
  
"Look, we're not getting into this." Maureen said, walking out of the room, and closing the door quietly.  
  
Sure enough, as soon as the door shut, on went the CD player.  
  
---  
  
Maureen was turning thirty in a matter of three days. She wanted everything to be as perfect as possible. But she knew it wouldn't be perfect...nothing was perfect. Nothing lasted. If it was going to be perfect, Dodge would be at her birthday. Murphy would be there, Greer, Santos, Munder, everyone would be there.  
  
But no...she was going to be alone. But she wasn't alone, or was she? She had her sister Maisie, and her daughter...but was that enough? That was the thing with Epps, you could never satisfy her. She always wanted more.  
  
"Happy birthday, Epps..." she muttered to herself, laying the picture frame of her mother, flat on the dresser.  
  
Slowly, she undid the buttons to her sweater, and threw it off, letting it land on one of the bed posts, as she dressed in her nightgown.   
  
She'd give anything to see them again...  
  
---  
  
Dizzy sighed.  
  
"Can you believe she wants me to do that?" Dizzy laughed.  
  
"She asked you to actually quit smoking?" the voice on the other line sounded incoherent, Diz could hardly understand her babbling.  
  
"No. She just told me not to smoke in her presence." Dizzy replied.  
  
"Oh."  
  
---  
  
Maureen gazed in the mirror. It was Spring, the sunlight shined into the room through the window, the dusty white curtains hung from their pole, dragging to the floor. Sighing, she placed a comb through her knotty curly dark brown hair, slowly dragging it down. With a wince of pain, some of her hair came out onto the comb.  
  
"Honey?" a male voice was heard, it dominated the household.  
  
"Huh?" Maureen asked, listening for where the voice was coming from...why did it sound so familiar?  
  
"Hon?" it asked again, a shadow drawing nearer.  
  
"What?" Maureen asked, turning her head to see who it was.  
  
"Where's the corn muffin mix?"   
  
"The wha?" Maureen got up from her seat, clutching her bathrobe tightly around herself, she peered from the doorway to see who it was.  
  
"Why would you want corn muffins?" she asked, suddenly staring into icy blue eyes.  
  
"To make muffins..." Jack Ferriman rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around her thin waist, and kissed her sweet lips.  
  
"Like honey..." he smiled.  
  
"Mmmm..." Maureen giggled, sort of girlie. Which wasn't normal for her.  
  
"Where's Desarae?" she asked.  
  
"Who?" Jack asked, raising a brunette eyebrow.  
  
"Our daughter..." Maureen also raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Daughter?" Jack took a step back, retreating his hands to his side.  
  
"Uh huh..." Maureen looked surprised.  
  
"Honey, we don't have a daughter..." he replied.  
  
"But...I swore we..." Maureen began, but he took a step forward, putting a finger to her lips.  
  
"Can you see if you can find the muffin mix?" Jack asked impatiently, almost whining like a child.  
  
Maureen sighed.  
  
"Of course..." she slowly walked forward, down the hallway, and towards the kitchen.  
  
"Why did you think we had a daughter?" Jack asked, loosening his tie.  
  
"Since when do you wear a tie?" Maureen asked, confused.  
  
"Since I've been working..." Jack smiled.  
  
He still looked normal, dusty brown hair, deep icy blue eyes, green cotton collared shirt, green corduroy pants with brown shoes. Yep, he was still all there. But....a tie?   
  
"Where do you work again? You must excuse me, I feel rather ditzy today..." Maureen smiled sweetly.  
  
"I'm a soul collector, remember?" Jack asked, looking through the cabinet for the muffin mix.  
  
"Ah." Maureen raised an eyebrow, looking confused. And now lines of worry could be seen on her face.  
  
"So you're thirty today..." Jack smirked.  
  
"Uh huh." Maureen smiled, proud of her age.  
  
"Still young and beautiful." he smiled.  
  
Maureen laughed, as he drew her into a kiss again.  
  
"But why must you wear a tie to work?" Maureen asked, breaking lose of the kiss.  
  
"Well, I want to look presentable, right?" he asked, getting slightly impatient now.  
  
"Right..." Maureen said, reaching up onto the shelf for the corn muffin mix.  
  
"All right then." Jack smiled a fake smile now, he was starting to lose it. He had quite a temper...  
  
"You know Maureen, it never occurred to me why I didn't kill you when I had the chance...or rather I still have the chance. And you know what? When you grow old...I'll be there...but I'll still be twenty-three and you'll be eighty-three. No longer having your youth, or beauty, you'll rot in the ground, and I'll drag you to hell with me"   
  
"That's nice dear." Maureen said, emptying the muffin box of it's mix.  
  
"DAMN IT WOMAN, I WANT MY CORN MUFFINS!" Jack shouted.  
  
"I'm making them as fast as I can!" she growled, shoving the drawer closed, as she got the spoon.  
  
The air began to get a bit misty, and Maureen found herself wide awake in her bed, screaming at the top of her lungs.  
  
"FUCKING HELL, NO!" she yelled.  
  
---  
  
A/N: Do you like, do you not like, do you absolutely hate it and want to throw a bar of butter at it? Review! 


	4. Chapter 3: Universal Order

Author's Note: Written by HappyBunny1. Please review!!!  
  
*~*~*  
  
Chapter 3:  
  
The Universal Order  
  
Jack was pacing nervously around the helm. If he was a woman, he probably would've started to chew on his nails and by now he would've bitten them down to the cuticle. But he wasn't a woman so his only options were to either pace around or go off and handle this "Maureen situation" himself. He didn't want to do the latter. He wanted Death to.  
  
"Goddamnit, where are you! Maureen is probably up to something right now!" He yelled to no one in particular.  
  
He had called out her name since it was the only competent idea he had to get Death's ass over there. "Candace Brimmingham I need your help!!" Wait, Jack actually needing someone's help? Not exactly. He was just trying to seem desperate.  
  
Jack quickly stopped begging and shut his mouth when he heard someone behind him. He twirled around and at the doorway to the helm stood that really nice person we call Death. She was wearing these really baggy pants that were several sizes to big and a white tank top. Her hair was in a ponytail and her hands were on her hips. She did not look happy.  
  
"Jack... what the hell do you want?" She said, keeping her anger in check. She wasn't even supposed to be there. This was Jack's job and he obviously wasn't 'taking care of things' since Candace was there.  
  
"Listen Candace, I'm in a bit of a dilemma." He said in that deep voice and in an annoyed way, completely irritated that she would question him the way she did.  
  
"Jack, you're always in a dilemma. Just get to the point so I can leave before the Boss finds out I'm here." Candace stared at him, waiting for his response. Candace then looked down at the dead body of Dodge and wrinkled her nose slightly.  
  
Jack was getting angry but he knew if he said one wrong thing, Candace would tell him to kiss her ass and then she would simply leave. "I need your help. There's a woman, Maureen Epps, who is the last one alive aboard the ship at this point. She's strong, not only physically but mentally as well. There is a possibility that she could ruin things for me, and that's why I need you. I want you to just kill her for me. You can take care of her efficiently and quickly."  
  
"I think not." Candace said, stepping farther into the helm.  
  
Jack expected her to say more but everything was silent. He sighed, "Well why the hell not!"  
  
"I won't because, first of all, this is your job and your problem, not mine. And second of all because I can't, I really can't. I can't disrupt the Universal Order of things. You know that. If I kill her now, or anytime, that might cause some serious problems in the future." Candace said as if it were just an everyday matter that everyone knew.  
  
"Serious problems?" Jack questioned. Then he became annoyed, "Candace, just kill her."  
  
"Why am I even having this conversation with you! You're an idiot!" She calmed down for a minute before continuing, "Ok, look at it this way: What if she's not supposed to die right now? She'll have to die sooner or later, she's a mortal, but-"  
  
Candace was suddenly cut off by Jack, "I'd prefer sooner."  
  
"I don't care what you prefer, Jack. I really don't. You've only been around a blink of an eye compared to me, so shut it." Candace was always very frank about anything and everything. "What if she's supposed to do something very important in the future? What if she's supposed to have some kind of tremendous impact on human existence? What if she's supposed to give birth to the future-president? What if she herself is supposed to be a future president?" she paused for a moment considering her next statement, "What if she's supposed to destroy you and your work?" Candace said, motioning to the ship around her.  
  
"What?" Jack said in shock.  
  
"Oh come on, you heard me, Jack." Candace said with a dramatic roll of her eyes.  
  
Jack's anger was coming to a boil, "No! That woman will no destroy anything!"  
  
"You don't know what's going to happen. See, Jack, you don't know how to roll with the punches. This is why you're only a simple soul collector." Candace said, "Oh, and one more thing before I leave you to your... work, I'd be in serious trouble if I stuck my nose where it didn't belong."  
  
Jack was oddly curious, but he looked at her suspiciously, "What do you mean?"  
  
"I shouldn't be here. Actually, I'm not allowed to be. This was and still is your job and you have to finish it. If you want the woman dead, kill her yourself, but I flatly refuse to do it or be any part of it. So have fun." Candace turned around to leave but Jack grabbed her by her arm.  
  
"Wait, the Boss won't allow you to help or even be here?"  
  
Candace picked his hand off of her arm and looked at him, "That's right. I mean, this is the Universal Order we're talking about. I must let things take their course and that's why the Boss didn't want me here."  
  
"Fine leave then." Jack said. He didn't really have much of a comeback, but then again, she really didn't insult him.  
  
"That's just what I planned on doing, Ferriman." Just before Candace walked out the door, she turned around and looked at him as if she were considering something, "I bet you fifty dollars something goes wrong or you mess things up."  
  
It was a proposition, and Jack never refused propositions like that. "You're on."  
  
"Well that's good." she said as she grinned evilly. "So long, Jack. Hope you figure out something." and with that she walked out of the helm.  
  
Jack stood there with a mixture of anger, frustration, and confusion distorting the features on his face. "Oh yes, I'll figure out something." but by then he already did have a plan in mind. With that, he walked out another door that was connected to the helm.  
  
I'll be truthful with you, Candace didn't actually leave. Jack thought she did, but she didn't. She simply hid in the shadows until he left. Whether or not the boss wanted her there, she was going to stand by and watch Jack ruin everything he had worked for. Not to mention, she wanted to make sure she got her fifty dollars.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Author's Note: Review. And thus the next chapter belongs to Epps! :-)  
  
Ok. Good? Or bad? I need your opinion... 


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